


Come A Little Bit Closer

by carrionkid



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adopted Children, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage, Memories, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Ravager Culture, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 22:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11136345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: I wanted to write some stuff about Ravager marriage traditions and uh... It kinda grew from there. It ended pretty goddamn angsty, so don't hate me y'all. I'm warning you now. This takes place both before all the movies and after GOTG Vol. 2. Yondu and Kraglin get married and it involves blood, knives, alcohol, dancing, and stolen objects. Later, Kraglin and Stakar reconcile and come to some kind of an understanding. Also, I'm on tumblr atstardorkquill-“Y’ever think we should just go ahead an’ do it? Y’know, gettin’ married an’ all?”Kraglin damn near drops the gun. He’s made it through years of his Captain doing things that nearly make him jump out of his skin but this is taking it a little far, even for Yondu. Sure, it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, but marriage was some serious shit. Fooling around was just fine, none of the permanency of saying you’re gonna stick with someone forever.





	Come A Little Bit Closer

Peter’s fifteen when it happens; the kid’s off ducking chores like he always is after he figured out that most of Yondu’s threats are empty. Most of the crew is planet-side and they’re finally getting the first day off in at least a quarter. Kraglin’s sitting on the edge of the bed, disassembling his gun to clean it.

 

Yondu, lying on the bed, nudges him with his boot, “Guess we ain’t half bad at this.”

 

Kraglin has a feeling he already knows what ‘this’ is, but he never thought he’d live to see the day Yondu Udonta admits to having one hell of a paternal instinct, “At what?”

 

“Quill turned out real good. He’ll be a helluva Ravager one day.”

 

Okay, so there’s still a chance that Kraglin’ll die before he ever hears Yondu admit it out loud, but this is a start.

 

He doesn’t look back, just stays focused on cleaning the weapon, “You done a good job.”

 

Yondu laughs, a noise that would usually strike fear into the hearts of most people that knew him or about him, “You done just ‘bout as much as I did!”

 

Kraglin makes a noise of agreement and the room slips into silence. Not exactly a tense silence but not the most comfortable silence either. It’s easy to feel on edge when the ever present racket of the Eclector isn’t, well, present anymore. He’s about to break the silence just to feel less jumpy, when Yondu beats him to it.

 

“Y’ever think we should just go ahead an’ do it? Y’know, gettin’ married an’ all?”

 

Kraglin damn near drops the gun. He’s made it through years of his Captain doing things that nearly make him jump out of his skin but this is taking it a little far, even for Yondu. Sure, it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, but marriage was some serious shit. Fooling around was just fine, none of the permanency of saying you’re gonna stick with someone forever.

 

Yondu’s still talking and he’s missed half of it, he tunes back in around, “I figure we been together long enough that we’da killed each other if it was gonna happen. Guess it ain’t, so we don’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

 

Kraglin tries to shake the shock of the question out of his head, the implications of the entire situation are mind blowing to say the least; he turns to face Yondu, brows furrowed, and says, “You sayin’ yer in love with me or somethin?”

 

Yondu just smirks, “Thought that was obvious. So, you gonna say yes?”

 

* * *

 

 

They tell Pete a few days later. Kraglin’s against the idea. He’d rather this be done real quiet, not have anyone find out that either of them have feelings of the soft and mushy variety. Still, Yondu insists on telling the kid because he’s kinda sorta theirs.

 

“You’re getting married?!”

 

Quill’s smiling too big for any good to come of this, but Yondu has a soft spot a mile wide for the kid that everybody knew well enough not to mention.

 

“My mom an’ dad never got married, but mom always said if he came back then they’d do it, but that never happened so it’s kinda cool that it’s gonna happen now!” He’s already up and out the door before either of them can register what’s happened.

 

“Kid’s gonna go tell everybody,” Kraglin sighs, so much for keeping it quiet.

 

Yondu claps him on the shoulder, “The crew was gonna find out one way or another, traditions and all that shit.”

 

The thought doesn’t make it any less embarrassing when he hears someone at the mess hall yell out, “Looks like Kraggles and the Cap’n are finally gettin’ hitched!”

 

And it only gets worse when Yondu laughs at just how blue he’s turning.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s trailing after him, asking a thousand questions just like he’s ten all over again.

 

“So….” Peter stops to catch his breath after finally catching up with Kraglin’s fast pace, “What’s gonna be your first dance?”

 

The kid can’t take a hint, so he slows down instead of continuing to try to walk away, “My what?”

 

He looks shocked, “You don’t know what a first dance is?”

 

“Evidently not,” He sounds a little more pissed than he intended but Peter should be used to it by now.

 

“Okay. So.” Peter pauses to think, “It’s kinda like… You just got married and now everything’s gonna be different because you’re doing it for the first time after being married. So, when you’re dancing together for the first time it has to be something special. That’s a first dance.”

 

Kraglin stops and turns back to the kid, “You sure that’s a real thing? Cos it sounds like you’re just comin’ up with reasons to play yer music.”

 

Peter crosses his arms in front of him, “My music’s _awesome._ But it is real! It’s a big thing on Terra!”

 

Kraglin sighs and drags his hands down his face, “Will ya let me get my rounds done if I let you pick a song?”

 

Peter nods, grinning and practically bouncing in place.

 

“Deal. Now scram so I can work.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nothing fancy, just a gathering in the biggest empty room of the Eclector. Kraglin’s wearing his cleanest set of leathers, which has to count for something. They’re going by the book, despite the fact that the majority of the factions that wrote the book have turned their back on them. Old habits die hard, he guesses.

 

Peter pushes him out into the hallway, “Come on, everyone’s _waiting!”_

 

He steps into the room, still wishing this could’ve just been something small but now with the added wish that he could go get drunk enough to not feel everyone staring at him. He’d kill for some liquid courage right now.

 

Yondu grabs him by the arm and drags him over to the center of the room, “Took ya long enough,” he turns out to the crowd, “Any objections? And y’all best remember, if any of ya say anythin’ you’re goin’ out the airlock.”

 

Nobody speaks up, so Yondu grabs Kraglin’s hand. He turns the other man’s left palm up towards the ceiling and takes a knife from his hip sheath. Kraglin grits his teeth, knowing what’s coming next; Yondu drags the blade across the calloused skin of his palm and dark blue blood pools in the center of his hand. He passes the knife to Kraglin and exposes his palm for the Xandarian to do the same to him. Yondu’s blood is a garishly bright crimson, a stark contrast to his blue skin.

 

Kraglin clasps their hands together, holding them up for everyone to see. Their blood mixes into a kind of muddy purple looking color that’s currently dripping down their arms. It stings and he definitely feels kind of dizzy but they’ve bled on each other without dying often enough that this should be fine.

 

Someone passes them each a shot of something to their free hands.

 

“Till death,” Kraglin whispers.

 

Yondu nods, then shouts out, “Till death!”

 

They both down the liquid, Kraglin isn’t sure what it is but it’s strong. It burns his throat on the way down and he has to stop himself from coughing like it’s his first time drinking all over again. On the plus side, between the weird things mixing blood is doing to him and the unidentifiable alcohol, he’s finally feeling buzzed enough to be enjoying this.

 

Peter lets out a loud woop from the crowd that pushes everyone else into cheering as well. Kraglin throws his head back and laughs, a sign that he’s probably a bit more out of it than he thought. Yondu drops his hand and guides him over to one of the tables then comes back with another round of drinks. They’re both an obnoxiously neon color and Yondu makes a mental note to find out whoever got them and threaten them.

 

Kraglin’s still kind of giggly, but Yondu seems to be enjoying it so he isn’t trying to stop being giggly. He’s halfway through the pinkest looking cocktail he’s ever seen when the sound system crackles to life. A few chords start before the lyrics.

 

_In a little cafe, just the other side of the border…._

 

Yondu looks confused to say the least, and Kraglin suddenly remembers his promise.

 

“Aw shit, Cap’n, I told Pete that he could pick us a song fer a first dance. ‘S gonna make him happy an’ I don’t think he’s gonna shut up ‘less we do it.” He stumbles to his feet and Yondu catches his waist, steadying him. By some kind of miracle, they make it to the center of the room. He isn’t really sure what kind of dancing is appropriate for this Terran wedding ritual, so he just lets Yondu lead him in whatever he wants to do.

 

Peter sprints up to them, stopping just before a collision, “Do ya like it? It’s the only love song I have that also has a fight in it!”

 

Yondu laughs, pulling Kraglin towards him, “I dunno what you were worried about, kid’s got the right idea.”

 

He smiles as the chorus starts and Peter runs back off to void knows where.

 

_Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man, so big and so strong…_

 

It’s catchy, he’ll give Quill that, and it’s probably gonna be stuck in his head for the next week or so, but that’s just what life is like when you live with the one and only Peter Quill. After the song ends, people start bringing over gifts. It’s one of the newer traditions, a competition to see who can steal the best gift. Kraglin already has a rough idea of what everyone got since he’s talked half the crew out of stealing another child for them.

 

Since adding more stolen children to their ship roster is off limits, they end up with a lot of console ornaments. Tullk wins when he hands Kraglin a small box full of cassette tapes for Peter. It’s probably just to get on the Captain’s good side, but he really wants to hope that someone else here actually does care about Peter.

 

* * *

 

 

They’re sitting back at the table watching the chaos of the party. There’s nothing quite like a Ravager party. Kraglin’s eyes focus on Peter, across the room and dancing like he’s about to fall over at any second.

 

He elbows Yondu, “Pete’s drunk.”

 

Yondu almost sounds defensive, “No he ain’t, but you are.”

 

“Naw, jus’ lookit him.”

 

Yondu sighs and waves the kid over.

 

He runs over, face flushed and grinning, “Hey! This punch is amaaaaaaazing!”

 

Kraglin elbows Yondu again, “Told ya.”

 

“How much…. _punch…_ did’ya have?” Yondu sighs.

 

“Jus’ a couple glasses,” Peter laughs, “I feel really funny though.”

 

“That’s cos yer drunk, Pete,” Yondu stands up and pats him on the back, “You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow, boy.”

 

Peter blurts out, “Kraglin’s drunk too!”

 

“Yeah, but it ain’t his first time,” he clears his throat, “Now, who here let the kid get into the cocktails. Fess up and I’ll try not to hit yer important organs.”

 

The crowd gets quieter for a second, but no one speaks up. Yondu makes another mental note to track down the person responsible for letting the Terran brat get drunk tomorrow.

 

Kraglin laughs, “Go easy on the kid, it’s the first step to becomin’ a man.”

 

“I’m gettin’ both of ya to bed before y’all say somethin’ stupid,” Yondu says as he grabs both Peter’s and Kraglin’s hands, herding them down the hallway.

 

“Come onnnnn, I could’a stayed, it would’a been fine!” Peter protests, despite the fact that he can’t walk in a straight line.

 

* * *

 

 

Kraglin collapses onto the bed as soon as they make it back to Yondu’s quarters.

 

Peter rubs his hands against his forehead, “I don’ feel good anymore…”

 

“If you think yer gonna puke, go to the bathroom, don’t want it on my floor.” He sounds meaner than he really meant to but it’s also way too early to deal with vomit. Peter nods and slinks into the bathroom.

 

Yondu makes his way over to the bed, sitting next to Kraglin, “Get outta your leathers. I’m not lettin’ you sleep in them.”

 

Kraglin flashes a shit-eating grin, “Help me?” He’s not actually too far gone to take them off but this is the best he’s gonna get now that Peter’s in the room.

 

Yondu rolls his eyes and pulls the zipper on Kraglin’s jumpsuit down, “Sure ain’t what I was expectin’ when I was thinkin’ ‘bout undressin’ you on our weddin’ night.”

 

Kraglin laughs as he slips the jumpsuit off and throws it on the floor, “Go check on Pete. Kid’s gonna have it rough t’morrow.”

 

Sure enough, he’s leaning over the sink, retching his guts out. Yondu tries to stifle a laugh as he ruffles the kid’s hair.

 

“Stop laughin’, I can hear you,” Peter says, spitting back into the sink, then turns the water on. He swishes some water in his mouth and spits it back out, then splashes it on his face.

 

“Come an’ sleep it off, kiddo. Still feel like shit in the morning but less shitty than you’d feel if ya stayed up all night.”

 

Peter nods and climbs onto the bed, settling on his back next to Kraglin. Yondu lies down on the other side of Kraglin, one arm slung over his waist, but Kraglin’s already out cold. It’s been years since they had to make room for Peter and it’s considerably more cramped now that the kid isn’t ten years old anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s only one rule at a Ravager wedding, it isn’t over until something’s on fire. Which, judging by the alarms blaring, means the wedding’s over now. There’s nothing that sobers you up quite like loud sirens and flashing red lights. Kraglin sits up, suddenly very awake, with his hands wrapped around the gun he keeps under the pillow.

 

Peter’s still asleep, though he really doesn’t know _how_ the kid could sleep through something so loud. Yondu’s awake, too, and he takes the gun from Kraglin.

 

“Jus’ sleep. The crew’ll figure it out,” he says as he tucks the gun back under the pillow. Kraglin turns over to face him, they’re practically on top of each other since Peter’s spread out like he’s trying to claim the bed for himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Kraglin wakes up alone, eyes blurry with sleep, and blinks until everything comes into focus. Shit. It’s not their room. It takes him a second to remember where he is, what’s happened. He’s in the remnants of the Eclector, he’s alone. Everything about the past week is still raw and all too real. Still, it was nice to have a memory instead of a nightmare for a dream. He sits up, plants his feet on the cold metal ground, and scrambles to find the Yaka arrow.

 

It’s still where he left it and he turns it over in his hands, feeling the cold metal slowly warm up as he handles it more. There’s something very definite about it, comforting and real. It’s stupid, but it’s all he has left. There’s a knock on the bedroom door, but he doesn’t respond.

 

“Kraglin?”

 

The voice is muffled through the door but it’s definitely Peter’s.

 

“There’s someone here, says he wants to talk to you, says he knew you and… uh…” the kid trails off and there’s a brief pause before he adds, “Can I come in?”

 

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he says, hoping no one noticed that his voice cracked. The door slides open and Peter walks in, followed by Stakar Fucking Ogord of all the people in the entire universe.

 

He’d be angry if he didn’t feel so unbelievably numb. He just keeps turning the arrow over in his hands.

 

“I didn’t want to exile him.”

 

_Then why’d you fucking do it._

 

The room falls silent and he realizes he said it out loud.

 

Stakar stumbles over his words, “I had to. We have a code and he broke it.”

 

Kraglin doesn’t reply; Peter shifts back and forth on his feet, looking like he really wants to leave.

 

Stakar sighs, “I don’t want to fight. Just wanted to give you this.” He sets a box down on the bed next to Kraglin and steps back on the off chance that Kraglin decides to attack him. Instead, Kraglin sets the arrow down and picks up the box. It’s full of units worth at least a couple million, and on top of the stack of units are a few photographs of Yondu.

 

Real ones. Like the worn ones Peter has of his mother. He wants to ask how the hell Stakar got them, but he also really doesn’t want it to seem like he’s welcome here. Stakar moves closer, eyes watching Kraglin’s every move, and sets down another package wrapped in red leather. Kraglin warily picks it up and unwraps it, inside of the leather is a knife. It looks like it’s just been polished, gleaming in the dim light of the bedroom.

 

“You… You knew?” Kraglin’s voice feels choked up but he’s determined not to cry in front of Stakar.

 

“Course I did. It broke my heart to send him away, he was like a son to me. I kept tabs on him. Never got to congratulate him, though.”

 

“I… uh… thanks.”

 

“It’s your right. You two were blood.”

 

“Still. Didn’t think you’d honor it after exilin’ us.”

 

Stakar nods and curls his right hand into a fist, bringing it up to his chest and tapping twice. It takes Kraglin a second to realize that he’s saluting him. He salutes back and Peter copies them, off to the side. Then, Stakar leaves and Peter follows him out of the room. Looks like the kid finally learned when it’s a good time to leave someone alone.

 

He sets the knife back down on the bed then looks at the thin scar on his left palm and realizes he isn’t completely alone.


End file.
